Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
by madurai
Summary: A look at our favorite couple from the outside: Ted and Andromeda Tonks take their daughter and new son-in-law to dinner.


Ted Tonks tugged at the collar of his dress robes in frustration. "Dromeda? Dromeda!"

"What? What is it? Why aren't you dressed yet?"

"I can't get this bloody thing tied." Andromeda began to work on his Windsor knot, frowning in concentration. "I don't know why we need to wear dress robes, anyway," he added. "It's just dinner."

She sighed impatiently. "Dress robes are entirely appropriate for the celebration of your daughter's marriage. Merlin's beard, Ted, if you had your way you'd never leave the house in anything but one of those tracksuits."

"Yes, well, as we weren't invited to the wedding — "

Andromeda smoothed his robes and took a step away from him to check her hair in the mirror. "We're hardly the ones to lecture Nymphadora about eloping, now are we?" Her tone was light and teasing, but there was an undercurrent of tension in her voice.

In truth, given Dora's tendency to reach out and grab hold of life with both hands, he would have been more surprised if she _hadn't_ eloped. His wife's dreams of a large formal wedding for their daughter had always seemed like a bit of wishful thinking to him. Perhaps, once all of this war nonsense was over and done, he'd ask Andromeda to renew their vows so he could finally give her the beautiful wedding she had always deserved.

No, it wasn't the manner of his daughter's marriage that had them both flustered, but rather her choice in a husband. Even in the wizarding community it had to be a rare occurrence for one's daughter to show up on the doorstep and announce her elopement with a werewolf.

Not that he didn't like Remus Lupin. The man seemed decent enough, polite and well-spoken, if a bit reserved. And it wasn't as if his daughter didn't know her own mind. On the contrary, Dora had always been strong-willed, even as a child, and Ted was exceedingly proud of the independent, intelligent young woman she had become. But in his heart she was still his little girl — pink hair, Doc Martens, and all. As decent a chap as Lupin seemed, he still had a visceral reaction to the thought of his little girl bound to a werewolf.

"That will be them," Andromeda said with one last fluff of her hair, as a loud crash sounded from the direction of the living room.

"Do you think he likes his steak rare?" Ted asked, earning him a sharp slap on the shoulder.

Lupin was helping Dora to her feet as Ted and Andromeda came into the room. "Wotcher, Mum, Dad. Ready for dinner?"

"Mrs. Tonks, you look lovely this evening," added Lupin as he presented her with a bouquet of pink roses.

"Call me Andromeda, please, Remus. After all, I've known you since you were eleven." Ted winced at Andromeda's not-so-subtle reminder of Lupin's age. The Black family may have disowned Dromeda, but she still retained their innate ability to use words like a knife.

Dora shot daggers at her Mum, but for his part, Lupin smiled politely and agreed. "Andromeda, then."

Andromeda cleared her throat and added, "These are beautiful, thank you. I'll just go and put them into some water."

'_Score one for the werewolf,'_ thought Ted, as he turned to shake Lupin's — correction, his _son-in-law's_ — hand and give his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Hello, Dora love. You look smashing yourself."

"Well, shall we?" Andromeda asked as she returned from the kitchen, her smile having lost some of its frostiness. She was making an effort, Ted had to give her that much.

They had reservations at a quaint little restaurant tucked into a quiet street off Diagon Alley. After the awkward start to the evening Ted was afraid that dinner would be a disaster, but Remus Lupin proved to be a charming dinner companion with a quiet warmth that complemented Dora's vivaciousness. His dry sense of humor was well suited to the stories he shared of his friendship with Sirius and some of their—tamer, Ted was sure—adventures at Hogwarts, and it was this more than anything that warmed Andromeda to him.

Any remaining doubts Ted had about their relationship were put to rest by the way Remus looked at Dora—he quite obviously adored her. Whenever his eyes held hers his careworn appearance melted away, allowing Ted to glimpse the young Gryffindor who had charmed Minerva McGonagall's stuffed chair to sing "Flower of Scotland" on a dare.

Ted looked up as a familiar figure approached the table. Miles Montgomery was an acquaintance from work with whom he had shared an occasional pint. "Miles, hello, I didn't see you when we came in." He and Remus both stood up as he made introductions. "You know my wife Andromeda, and this is our daughter Nymphadora — "

"_Dad "_

"I'm hardly going to introduce you as 'Tonks' to my co-workers, Dora—and her husband, Remus Lupin ... " Ted trailed off as it became obvious that Montgomery wasn't paying him any attention.

"I know who you are," he said, staring at Remus and ignoring his proffered hand. "Your kind murdered my nephew. Only six years old he was, and your lot tore him to pieces ... What business do you think you have, coming to a place where decent witches and wizards might bring their families?"

Ted found himself staring in stunned silence at his son-in-law. Lupin's face had drained of color, and his hand fell loosely to his side. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and had lost all of the animation it held just moments ago. "Mr. Montgomery, I am very sorry for your loss— "

Montgomery shoved him in the chest, "I don't need sympathy from the likes of you, you werewolf bastard!"

Dora was up in a flash with her wand drawn, but Remus put a restraining hand on her arm. "Dora, it's all right."

"No, it's bloody well not all right, Remus." Ted held his breath. His daughter didn't always know when to walk away from a fight. But something in her husband's voice must have registered, because she sat back down and contented herself with tearing viciously at a breadstick.

Ted put a hand on Montgomery's arm, trying to calm him down and draw his attention away from Remus. "Miles, please, you're upset. Don't do anything you might regret later. Let me walk you back to your table."

"My only regret is that filth like this is walking around free while my nephew lies cold in the ground." He shook off Ted's arm and stormed out of the restaurant.

Ted looked helplessly at Andromeda as he returned to his seat. Dora had her hand on her husband's arm and was whispering to him fiercely, "It wasn't your fault, you did everything you could to stop it."

Remus stared at his plate for a moment before speaking. When he looked up at last, he had once more schooled his expression to one of polite reserve. "Ted, Andromeda …I—" Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by the arrival of the maitre d'. Remus closed his eyes as a look of resignation settled on his face.

"Excuse me, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Several of our other patrons have complained about the disturbance." Ted noticed with annoyance that the man didn't even have the courtesy to look Remus in the eye.

"What?! In case you didn't notice, _Remus_ wasn't the one causing the disturbance!"

"Dora, please," said Remus.

"I have to agree, my son-in-law did nothing wrong." At that moment his wife was every bit the scion of the Most Noble House of Black, the set of her shoulders and indignation in her voice leaving no question as to who was the offended party.

Remus looked at Andromeda with gratitude, but even her icy demeanor was not enough to dissuade the maitre d'. "Nevertheless, I am still going to have to ask you to leave."

Remus placed his napkin on his plate and rose from the table. "I apologize for the early end to our evening. I'm afraid it is one of the hazards of my ... condition." His slight smile did not reach his eyes. "Please feel free to stay and finish your meal." Dora gave her parents a look of helpless frustration and followed after her husband.

Ted and Andromeda sat in silence for several minutes. Unlike Andromeda, Ted had never really feared for his daughter's physical safety when she became involved with Remus Lupin. She was an Auror after all, and a damned good one at that. No, if he were honest with himself, he would have to admit that his objections to the relationship were more due to his own assumptions about the motivations of a werewolf attaching himself to Dora, rather than any notion that his daughter had gotten herself in over her head. Now that he had gotten to know the man he was ashamed of his initial prejudiced reaction, and appalled at the bigotry Remus had faced that evening.

"Perhaps we should ... ?" It was a mark of how deeply affected his wife was that her voice shook.

He nodded and offered her his arm as they rose from the table, leaving a few coins to pay for the unfinished meal. As they exited the restaurant, Andromeda pulled up short and gave his arm a tight squeeze. "Ted," she said, nodding towards the other side of the street. Dora strode up and down the sidewalk gesturing wildly to Remus, who stood with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets, shaking his head. Finally he reached out to place a hand on her arm, as if to calm her agitated pacing. For her part, Dora closed the distance between them in an instant, pulling Remus into a tight embrace. He hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair.

"What kind of life ... ?"

He looked into the concerned face of his wife. "I don't know, Dromeda. I don't know." He had never felt more distant from his daughter than he did at that moment, when she was standing a mere twenty feet away from him. What kind of life, indeed? It struck Ted forcefully that his daughter was now subject to the same bigotry they had witnessed in the restaurant. And although he had admired the restraint with which Remus had handled the situation, a part of him wished the man had not been so resigned to his ill treatment.

As his gaze was drawn once again across the street to the couple clinging desperately to one another, he found himself transported back to those first few, difficult years after he and Andromeda had married. It still amazed him sometimes that this beautiful, elegant creature had given up everything to be with him. "Maybe … maybe the only thing that matters is how they feel. About each other, I mean. Maybe, if it's half of what we felt for each other, it will be enough." He wasn't sure he believed it, himself, but it was enough to give him hope.

"Let's go home, love."


End file.
